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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28956654">Dwarven Bread in the Shire</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassunjey/pseuds/Cassunjey'>Cassunjey</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Traveller in Middle-earth [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Modern Girl in Middle Earth, POV Bilbo Baggins, Slice of Life</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:55:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,744</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28956654</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassunjey/pseuds/Cassunjey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo has a disaster in the kitchen, and with the Hobbiton spring fair only hours away it's up to Kili to help him find a solution. </p><p>- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - </p><p>“Can’t you just fill the sunk bit with cream? Or cover it with…” Kili waved a hand over the cake vaguely. “Things? Strawberries or something?”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bilbo Baggins &amp; Kíli</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Traveller in Middle-earth [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1928956</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>/r/FanFiction Prompt Challenge #21 / January 2021</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dwarven Bread in the Shire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This one shot sits between my fix-it story 'A Traveller in Middle-Earth' and 'A Traveller in the Shire' but has a lower rating. </p><p>I think this should read ok as a standalone fic, but for a little context Bilbo has returned to the Shire with Kili following the Battle of the Five Armies.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was typical bad timing.</p><p>Bilbo stared at the clock on the mantlepiece and wished he knew what time it actually was. He made his way out to the one in the hallway. Completely different. He didn’t know why he hadn’t noticed before. Hopefully it was somewhere between the two. Although it did feel more like late morning. He peered out the window by the front door, as his foot tapped in time with the ticking clock. Definitely late morning. That wasn’t good. He glanced down the hallway. Best check how he's getting on.</p><p>“Were you at my mantle clock again by any chance?” That was an excellent and perfectly valid excuse for a return to the kitchen. His fingers played over the stovetop. This wasn't hovering. Or getting in the way. It was a genuine question that urgently needed an answer. Therefore the very firm get out and stay out command did not apply.</p><p>“Oh good, you're back.” Kili's voice was muffled. “I was about to call for you. I didn't expect you to stay away so long.”</p><p>“But you said—”</p><p>“When’s the last time you cleaned this?” Kili closed the oven door and rolled up to his feet. His hands blackened to the wrist and with smudges of soot over his forearms. And one on his cheek. Bilbo opened his mouth to mention it but Kili got in first. “Properly, I mean. Not just dusting out a bit of ash and wiping fingerprints off the shiny bits.”</p><p>That felt like an attack. Which probably meant that Kili had taken apart the mantle clock, and possibly the one in the hallway too. Which likely meant both were running fast. That in itself was a relief of sorts. But still. He’d known where he was with his clocks. Even if Kili hadn’t been able to comprehend why Bilbo owned such a useful device, and yet be content to add on or subtract a little time here and there. He’d shaken his head in disbelief when Bilbo explained that it was part of the old thing’s charm.</p><p>
  <em>“It’s not charm,” Kili said, as he removed the back of the clock and showed Bilbo all the tiny pieces within. “It’s just broken. This seems to be out of balance here, look. And if you listen you can hear it’s not quite right. But it’s all weights, so it should be easy enough to work out. I’ll see if I can fix it. There’s no point in having something that should be accurate if it’s not.”</em>
</p><p>Bilbo thought he’d managed to talk him out of it.</p><p>Now he didn’t know whether he was coming or going. He hadn’t realised how much he relied on the dratted thing.</p><p>“Bilbo.” Kili glared at him from the sink, and threw a soot stained teatowel onto the draining board. Right on top of the clean dishes. A sure sign that he was distracted and annoyed. “When was the last time you swept this chimney?”</p><p>Bilbo tried to work it out. Not quickly enough apparently.</p><p>“Well? It’s not a hard question. What about any of the chimneys?” Kili sounded incredulous, and really angry. And suddenly looked so like his uncle that it took Bilbo's breath away. Strange how the family resemblance came and went. Kili rubbed a hand over his face and sighed heavily. “I can't believe I never...I just assumed... Bilbo, do you have any idea how dangerous that is?”</p><p>Bilbo suspected Kili wouldn’t appreciate the answer to any of those questions. He felt like sighing himself. He had always meant to either sweep the chimneys himself or get someone else to do it, but it sounded like such a messy job. One best kept for next spring. Then next spring came and went, and the chimneys were fine for another year.</p><p>“It’s been a while.” He admitted at last. “Is that what’s wrong with the oven?”</p><p>The range was fine yesterday. Working away just as it always did. Bilbo stared sadly at his cake. The middle even more sunken than the first one he’d pulled from the oven. It was incomprehensible that the heart of Bag End, which although admittedly could sometimes be a little unpredictable, should decide that today was the best day to keel over and stop working.</p><p>Kili looked at the cake and seemed to not want to answer the question. Which wasn’t a good sign.</p><p>“I thought it was the mix, perhaps that I’d made a mistake. Or accidentally put it in the wrong spot. You know how there's always a few bits of an oven that are a little cooler.” Bilbo pretended he didn’t see Kili raise his eyebrows. Dwarves and their bothersome insistence that everything must work perfectly at all times. “There’s always been slightly cooler spots. That’s perfectly normal.”</p><p>“No. It’s not.”</p><p>Bilbo ignored him. The range was a constant in Bag End. Like an old friend. Sometimes a bit finicky, but it never really let him down. Not properly. He felt a little betrayed, if truth be told. “Usually that’s why a cake would collapse like that. It was only when I went to make another pot of tea, and it was taking forever, that I noticed there was hardly any heat. But it was fine first thing. How could it stop working so quickly?”</p><p>Filling the range with fuel, fiddling with all the levers and standing with his fingers firmly crossed hadn’t made any difference. Calling Kili from his bath was the last resort.</p><p>“Can’t you just fill the sunk bit with cream? Or cover it with…” Kili waved a hand over the cake vaguely. “Things? Strawberries or something?”</p><p>That was a terrible idea. He’d never live it down. It would be better to pretend he'd forgotten. Or that he’d dropped it.</p><p>"If we sweep the chimney will that fix it?” They might have time. If they were quick about it. Bilbo tried to remember what tools were needed to sweep a chimney. His father was bound to have done it at some stage, so anything they needed would be about. Somewhere. Find tools; sweep chimney; make new cake. He breathed in and tried to settle himself. It would be fine. Goodness knows he’d overcome bigger problems.</p><p>Kili sucked in a breath through his teeth, and Bilbo stopped adjusting the timetable in his head. That wasn’t a good noise. That was the noise of something either expensive, difficult or time-consuming. Perhaps even all three. Expensive was fine. There was still more gold hidden around Bag End than Bilbo was comfortable with. It was time that was the issue. The fair was at sunset. Which was...he didn't know how many hours away. Not nearly enough.</p><p>“Kili?”</p><p>“I don’t know.” Kili knelt in front of the range and looked underneath.</p><p>Bilbo winced and tried to remember how long it had been since he swept under there properly. He crouched down onto the flagstones beside Kili. “What are you looking for?”</p><p>“I don’t know that either.” Kili opened the oven door again and peered inside. Perhaps hoping some solution had presented itself since the last time he looked. Bilbo tried to see past his shoulder and watched the droplets of water drip from Kili’s wet hair onto the floor. He wondered briefly if a dwarven insistence on bath water hot enough to melt skin from bone might have anything to do with the range's untimely death, and dismissed it. Throwing accusations around wouldn't help.</p><p>“I’m really not the right dwarf for this.”</p><p>“You’re the only dwarf I have.” It came out a bit more plainitive than Bilbo intended.</p><p>Kili looked at him sideways. “I know.” He rocked back on his heels and Bilbo shuffled away to give him space to close the oven door.</p><p>“I can fix it, maybe. But it’ll take me time to work it out. I’m not Ori, or Fee—” Kili stood and brushed himself down briskly. “So we’ll just have to think of something else. But that’s what you’re good at. So think. And stop wringing your hands.”</p><p>He hadn’t realised he was. Bilbo stood and clasped his hands behind his back instead. His mind completely and unhelpfully blank.</p><p>“Why don’t you use Hamfast’s oven?” Kili prompted.</p><p>Bilbo shook his head.</p><p>They thought for a while longer.</p><p>“Does it have to be a cake? Could you make something else.”</p><p>“Well, no. It doesn’t have to be cake.” Bilbo mulled it over. “I’d think a lot better if I had a cup of tea.”</p><p>“I’ll get a fire going in the garden. You bring the kettle.”</p><p>“Don’t laugh at me.”</p><p>Kili ducked away and pretended to examine something on the counter.</p><p>“I already get called ‘Mad Baggins’ enough as it is without the entire row seeing me make tea in my front garden, thank you very much.” Bilbo watched Kili’s shoulders begin to shake. This was not helpful. He stamped his foot. “Stop it.”</p><p>“Sorry.” Kili turned back, still giggling helplessly. He wiped at his eyes and struggled for control of himself whilst Bilbo glared at him. “Sorry. I’ve stopped, I promise. Look, I’ve an idea.”</p><p>The very secret dwarven recipe looked a lot like a normal bread mix to Bilbo, but he kept that to himself and instead promised on everything he held dear that he wouldn’t share it with anyone. Ever. Not even if Bolg knocked on the front door of Bag End, with an entire orc army behind him, and demanded it. That seemed to make Kili happy, and in no time Bilbo found himself stood outside the doors of the smithy. Confused, and with a bowl of dough in his arms.</p><p>It was a worry that Kili seemed a little slapdash about the quantities of ingredients, and very vague and evasive on both the process and how many times he'd actually made dwarf bread. Which left Bilbo not exactly brimming with confidence about the whole idea. But it was a good deal better than nothing. As Kili said, Bilbo could claim this was the plan all along. An attempt to introduce the good folk of Hobbiton to foreign fare from faraway lands. It might work.</p><p>Kili ushered him in. Bilbo stood obediently in the spot indicated and watched Kili return to the fire and poke about. Whatever he found must have pleased him for he spun back to face Bilbo with a smile. “Perfect temperature. I’d banked it before I left. When I thought I was leaving for the day that is. Bring it here.”</p><p>Bilbo shuffled forward and wished he hadn’t used his mother’s mixing bowl. He gripped it tighter and looked around the smithy for something else they could put the dough into.</p><p>“Maybe I—” He gasped as Kili pulled the bowl from his arms, threw the dough onto the embers and quickly covered it with ash. “What are you doing?”</p><p>“Making bread.” Kili handed him the bowl back and swung the heavy cover into place in front of the fire. “We’ll come back in a bit. Let’s go to the Dragon and get you a drink.”</p><p>The Dragon was quiet. Bilbo nodded to the two old gaffers ensconced at the table by the fire, before he followed Kili's pointing finger to the brightly lit table by the window. It was nice to get a bit of a sit down. He shifted about to get comfortable and tapped his feet lightly against the flagstones as he waited for Kili. Who looked very comfortable leant against the bar, and deep in conversation with Rosie whilst she poured their drinks. She smiled over at Bilbo and he waved back. Perhaps Kili was right and an ale would settle his nerves. Silly to be nervous about a little competition really. His fingers played with the crumbs scattered all across their little table. Leftovers from someone's lunch most likely. Rosie mustn't have had a chance to clean it yet. Bilbo brushed them up and swept the pile onto the floor.</p><p>“Here. Start on that.” Kili plonked a mug of frothy ale in front of him and headed back toward the bar.</p><p>“Start?” Bilbo took a sip. Perhaps Kili intended to order food. By the smell of things, and the feel of his empty stomach, it was well past lunchtime. But surely Rosie would have something left in the kitchen, or she might rustle something up for them if Kili talked nicely enough to her. Rosie disappeared underneath the bar counter and Bilbo watched hopefully as Kili stood on tiptoe and leaned across the top, still talking animatedly and gesturing. To his disappointment she reappeared not with a pie but with a bottle, that even from this distance Bilbo could see was covered in thick dust, and uncorked it. She recoiled and Kili shook his head. Rosie disappeared again.</p><p>Bilbo settled back in his chair and stared out the window. He couldn’t remember the last time he sat in an inn in the middle of the day. It felt strange. Like a holiday. Hobbits moved around the market stalls set up on the square outside. Everyone full of purpose as they went about their day. Bilbo swung his heels and sipped at his ale as his eyes followed them. There was something very decadent about enjoying a quiet little drink and watching the world go by. Perhaps he should do it more often. He could bring a book.</p><p>Deep in pleasant daydreams he started as the mug was pulled from his hand. Kili replaced it with a tiny glass filled with a clear liquid.</p><p>“What—” The smell assaulted him. Some terrible blend of awful things, and alcohol. A lot of alcohol. “What is this?”</p><p>“Medicine. For your nerves.” Kili settled himself down opposite and lifted his mug of ale. “I advise drinking it down in one go.” He tapped the table sharply. “Go on.”</p><p>Across the inn Rosie leant on the bartop and smiled at him encouragingly. The two old gaffers also seemed to be taking an interest. It was all very suspicious. </p><p>“Why don’t you have one?”</p><p>“Because my nerves are just fine.” Kili tapped the table again and raised his eyebrows. "Get on with it."</p><p>It was vile. And burned like fire. Bilbo gasped and spluttered for air as Kili plucked the glass from his hand and passed him his ale. He gulped it down thankfully in a futile attempt to wash away the taste.</p><p>“Where did you learn to swear in Khuzdul?” Kili shook his head disapprovingly. “Although I suppose you are drinking like a dwarf at least. At long last.” He lifted Bilbo’s empty mug and shook it at him with a grin. “I’ll get you another.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>It was a truly lovely day. The blue skies over the Shire beginning to turn a rosy hue and scattered with very pretty, tufty clouds. He could see one that looked exactly like Gandalf's hat. Bilbo looked around the crowded party field, and wondered where Kili had got to so he could point it out to him. He was feeling much better. His legs were a bit wobbly, but in a nice, relaxed way. He thought he remembered speaking with Marigold, and entering his dwarven bread with the judges. Although perhaps Kili had done the talking. He wasn’t completely sure. But everyone seemed very interested anyhow. He remembered that much. An artisan delicacy from his travels. Very exotic. Bilbo felt quietly optimistic. Or maybe just drunk.</p><p>“What time does this thing start?”</p><p>Bilbo turned. The world blurred and tilted alarmingly for a moment. When it righted again he smiled at Ness. “You came!” He hugged her. “I’m so glad you came.”</p><p>“I was told there’d be cake.” Ness extricated herself from his arms. “Have you been drinking? What have you given him?”</p><p>“Just something for his nerves,” said Kili. Somehow stood at Bilbo’s elbow. As if by magic, or maybe he’d always been there. Either way Bilbo was happy to see him. “He wasn’t having a good day, but he’s fine now. Aren’t you, Bilbo?”</p><p>Bilbo nodded and tried to focus on Ness. He hiccoughed and clapped a hand over his mouth.</p><p>“Oh, for…” She glared past him at Kili. “You two better not be singing all night.”</p><p>“I don’t know what time it is, and I drank something terrible,” Bilbo told her. Confessing to things felt nice. “We made bread, but it’s a secret. And there’s something else..." He had it, something important, but it was gone. "I can’t remember.”</p><p>“It’ll come back to you, I’m sure.” Ness rolled her eyes and hooked her arm through his. The sudden movement knocked him off balance. “Everyone’s gathering up at the far end. You take the other side, Kili, and we’ll drag him between us. Bilbo, can you even stand?”</p><p>He could. Whether he could walk without falling flat on his face was another matter entirely. Bilbo opened his mouth to tell her, but she was speaking again.</p><p>“Oh, and by the way, that range of yours isn’t working properly and someone...and I wasn't intending to point any fingers but your hair is looking suspiciously freshly washed, Kili, used up all the hot water. Again. Don't bother yourself making innocent eyes at me, because I know it was you. Anyway. I got it going, eventually, and it seems fine now. You could have told me you were going out by the way.”</p><p>“I left you a note,” said Kili. “On the table.”</p><p>“You fixed it?” asked Bilbo.</p><p>“You can take that look off your face, Bilbo Baggins. I’m not completely useless. It took a lot of persuasion, but it’s working. My granny’s used to clap out all the time. But you two better take a proper look at it. If I haven't burned Bag End to the ground, and when you’re both sober. And I found your note. If that’s what you want to call it.” She dropped Bilbo’s arm and reached into a pocket. “What, exactly, is this supposed to say?”</p><p>Bilbo squinted at the scrap of parchment as she waved it in front of him. If she held it still he might have a chance. He caught her wrist on the second attempt.</p><p>“It says we’ve gone to the Dragon,” said Kili. “I didn’t write smithy because you don’t know that word yet."</p><p>“Why, in the name of all that’s holy, would you think I knew dragon?”</p><p>“Why would you not? I don’t believe for one moment Fee didn’t teach you dragon.”</p><p>“Well, you may believe it, because he didn’t. He taught me practical things. Like sentences. And place names. If you’d written Gundabad I would’ve been able to read it. I thought this said turnip.”</p><p>Bilbo got the sense Kili was trying very hard not to laugh. Which would have been a bad idea. He thought he should try to help, and he was genuinely curious. “Why would Fili think you’d need to know Gundabad?”</p><p>“I don’t know, Bilbo.” Ness turned her attention to him. “Maybe he thought I might see a signpost? Or bump into a lost orc who needed a bit of help with directions? Ask him in your next letter.”</p><p>“It doesn’t look anything like turnip.” Kili was definitely trying not to laugh.</p><p>It did. A little. Kili’s script was terrible at the best of times, and he’d obviously been in a rush when he dashed off the note. And Bilbo had been teaching, or attempting to teach, Ness vegetables for the past week. So he could understand her confusion. But, Kili had been very helpful with the cake disaster and not said anything further about neglected chimneys. So Bilbo stayed quiet and watched the clouds drift across the sky, and kept his opinions to himself.</p><p>“It even says it in big letters across the front of the alehouse. The Green Dragon.”</p><p>“There’s one pub.” A rustle of parchment and Ness grabbed Bilbo’s arm again to drag him forward. “And I know what it’s called, so I wouldn’t ever need to read the letters, would I?”</p><p>Bilbo listened with half an ear as they bickered. To be fair to Ness, the inn sign was partially covered by trailing greenery and flowers. But Kili had some good points too. After two years, and almost a year in the Shire, she really should be able to make some associations without someone sitting her down and slowly pointing out words on a page. The rare letters that arrived from Erebor the only time she showed an interest voluntarily, and even then, from the way she'd hang over Kili's shoulder and insist that it be read aloud, Bilbo suspected she barely read a word. Apart from the few lines Fili always added for her in the odd shaped runes of her world.</p><p>But, on the other hand, she had thought she recognised turnip. Which was heartening. So she must have actually been paying some attention. Usually, in their lessons, Bilbo got the impression that he was talking entirely to himself.</p><p>His legs didn’t seem to be working properly, and the argument faded into the background as Bilbo concentrated very hard about putting one foot in front of the other. After what felt like an eternity they stopped amidst the crowd, and Bilbo sighed in relief and leaned against Kili. He wasn’t completely sure after all that he could stand without support. But, no matter how tempting, a sit down on the soft grass would draw eyes. The little walk had really tired him out. He wriggled his toes and tried to count the daisies that surrounded his feet in an attempt to sober up, as the row continued above his head. That probably was drawing eyes. It would be nice if either of them knew how to whisper, or even had the first idea how to behave in polite company.</p><p>“—that’s not my fault.”</p><p>“It kind of is. You’re the one who left it propped up by what I can only assume was supposed to be a cake. In fact, if you think about it— “</p><p>Someone was shaking him. Bilbo looked up. The hobbits around them clapping and cheering and, really disconcertingly, staring at him as if they expected something.</p><p>Oh no.</p><p>“Bilbo!” Kili hit him a hearty slap between the shoulder blades. Hard enough to nearly pitch Bilbo to the grass, and would have, had Ness not caught a hold of him in time. “Listen. They’re calling your name. Go on, get up there.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This fic was written for the Fanfiction subreddit January prompt challenge. </p><p>Random words - Oven, collapse, timetable.</p><p>Hope you enjoyed it. Any and all feedback, including concrit, is very welcome!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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